Run
by Nyoom-Stories
Summary: Late at night, Sonic lays awake and wonders to himself; is he mistreated, and if so, what is there to do?


He had stared up at the ceiling for what was likely hours, sleep never coming to him. Too many thoughts were swirling in his head; some that he'd never thought of before, and some that he had.

Upon tracing his hand along his neckerchief, he grips it. How long had he had it now? He couldn't remember. Perhaps one of his friends had given it to him.

His… friends…

He finds that his eyes are suddenly drawn to a picture on the table; a picture of him and said friends.

His gaze is indifferent.

" _Nice try, Eggman! Wait, no, that was a terrible try."_

 _He didn't recall how long ago it was, but the memory itself was vivid and clear. He had switched bodies with Eggman, yet his friends couldn't even recognize him when he tried to convince them. Was Eggman really that good at acting like him? He didn't think so; the man didn't think highly of him and, just from what he saw, his act wasn't very believable._

 _Perhaps the answer required him to be a bit more cynical. Did his friends just not know him that well? Could his mind have been switched with anyone's and they wouldn't have batted an eye?_

 _Maybe…_

He takes his time for once, giving a much longer stare than he usually would at such a thing.

Then, he gets up, peering back at his hammock.

" _We were trying to motivate Eggman so you'd have someone to battle."_

 _Had it been wrong for him to want attention? He was bored, and only wanted someone to have fun with. Yet, no one wanted to give him the time of day, even in the panicked state he was in. He'd been a loner for most of his life until he found them, but was this really what friendship was?_

He grabs hold of a medium-sized bag that had been resting beside his TV. He had hoped that he'd never have to use it, but it seemed he was wrong.

" _You've been served. Doctor Eggman is suing you."_

 _Honestly, he couldn't have been more calm at that moment. He'd saved the villagers on countless occasions; why would they even consider proclaiming him as guilty?_

 _Yet, his heart nearly stopped when they were about to deliver the verdict. How pathetic must the value of his heroism be if he was worried about that?_

He walks over to a small box-like container over by the wall, opening it up and peering inside. There were an assortments of snacks, though nothing that needed to be refrigerated, which he was thankful for.

He stuffs his favorites inside of the bag.

" _Just look at that Sonic the Hedgehog guy. What ever happened to him? Is he still a thing?"_

 _He'd scoffed at the statement back then, but now he was having his doubts. Everyone had practically forgotten about him. Heck, he would've been surprised if a single one of the villagers had remembered his name._

 _Eggman was wrong though, but not in the way one would think._

 _It wasn't about if he was a thing anymore or not; it was if he ever was._

Slinging the bag over his shoulder, he goes over to his supply of sports tape, stashing only a little bit into his bag. It only reminded him of _them,_ so he didn't want to keep much.

" _Sonic! Eggman's not your friend. If you listen to him, you're gonna end up tied to something!"_

 _He laughed sarcastically in his mind then, but thinking back, it was pretty sad when Eggman treated him better than his own friends. Even though the guy was just tricking him, he tricked him with kindness; something that he wasn't getting from the others that day. Was it so wrong that he had just been trying to help? Sure, he'd been a little overbearing, but he hated feeling helpless!_

He goes over to his coconut husk collection after that. He considers dumping them all into the bag, but chooses not to, only taking the ones that meant most to him. The others simply didn't matter to him anymore.

" _Don't refer to yourself in the third person. It's creepy."_

 _What did she expect from him? For a hero who saved the day as much as he did, he needed to keep his spirits up. It kept his confidence running high, so he'd compliment himself when no one else would. Tails used to do it often, but that was so few and far between that, honestly, he couldn't remember the last positive thing he'd said about him, or that anyone had said about him, for that matter._

He heads back over to his TV, kneeling down and examining the two controllers lying there. He picks one up, lightly stroking it with his thumb.

" _Survival skills are just using what you've got."_

 _If a missile flying his opponents to the finish line counted as "what you've got", then he guessed that he'd been out of the race from the very beginning. Now, he felt silly that he didn't just pick Knuckles up and carry him to the finish line, but he supposed it didn't matter anymore; still, it didn't excuse Sticks' and Amy's behavior. If they had been trying to teach him a lesson in cockiness, they should've looked in the mirror and given it to themselves._

…No, he wouldn't need it anymore, he decided. He stood up and dropped the controller, watching it clang against the ground. At the very least, the sound gave him some sense of satisfaction, even if it wasn't much.

" _Let's not go aggro, brozilla. Can't help if I'm more handsome, stylin', and totally faster than you."_

 _He didn't want to believe it then, but everyone that was in the room at that time besides himself probably believed that wholeheartedly. How could everyone just… go to that shrew's side in one day? If he had left, would anyone have even noticed?_

His head turns back to the table he'd glanced at previously. The picture was still there, almost seeming to stare back at him. He went over to it and grabbed the frame.

" _But, I think the town will forgive you if they see you're making an effort to change your condescending, high-handed, appallingly insensitive attitude."_

 _Hmph. As if she was one to talk. Was it truly wrong to want a little respect every now and then? Maybe, but then again, it was another thing that didn't matter anymore._

In a swift motion, he slams the picture against the table, face-down. It felt… good, almost as if it'd been something that'd been on his to-do list for a long time that he'd only just now completed.

" _I knew, if we left you alone long enough, you'd step up and save the day."_

 _Was that truly all he was to them and the villagers; someone who would always save the day no matter how many abused his kind heart? Was he just someone to turn to during a crisis only to be forgotten immediately after?_

 _No. This couldn't be his fate. Even if the hero in him told him to stay, everything else inside of him was crying out, telling him to make a different decision._

He leaves his shack, not even bothering to look back. He didn't have the energy for it anymore. It was his past; something he was far too tired of.

He gazes out to the sea without fear, despite his inability to swim. The island was like a home to him, but that's the keyword; _was._

He takes a breath, as if waiting for friends who he knew would never come. It was too late for that now. Far too late.

With that in mind, he does something that had always occurred to him, but never acknowledged until recently; something that had been at the back of his mind for a long time and finally got its moment in the forefront.

He leaves, a blur of blue zipping across the water, his bag clutched tightly against his chest. And, for the first time in a long while, he smiles, without any sarcasm or falseness behind it.

He's free.


End file.
